


Over And Back Again

by pxincessofcolor



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2022339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxincessofcolor/pseuds/pxincessofcolor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie still isn't over Ichabod's near death experience and Katrina says "thank you".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over And Back Again

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this is my second fic on here. It's kind of short. But it's still just something that was on my mind. I apologize for any errors or mistakes. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I am in no way connected to nor own "Sleepy Hollow" or any of its characters.

   “Lieutenant, your bath is now empty,” said Ichabod Crane as he leaned in the doorway of her living room. He paused briefly. “Thank you for your kindness. I shall be retiring to my room for the evening.” He a small bow that seemed like an overextended nod of the head. “Good Morrow”.

And that was it. That was the extent of their exchanges since the Sin Eater fiasco. “Thanks!” Abbie called after him. Ichabod still had the isolated cabin all to his own, but neither one of them felt quite comfortable enough to let each other out of sight. So, he’d been staying at her place for the past few days. She closed the program she was viewing on her computer and shut down the machine before standing and stretching wide. She then twisted her body slightly.

Abbie looked in the direction of Ichabod’s room. She knew the door was closed; she heard the soft click earlier but couldn’t really see the door. When he’d first disconnected his ties to The Horseman, Ichabod wanted to talk immediately of what he saw, and as much as it was relative and she needed to hear it, Abbie couldn’t do it. It had been too close. She’d almost lost him, and it wasn’t until she was pressed against his chest, feeling the small _thump thump thump_ against the very center of her own did she realize how much of a close call he had. She felt that same gut drop, feeling-sick-to-her-stomach feeling she got when--.

She wasn’t thinking about this tonight. Not tonight. She moved so fast she knocked over the chair she had been sitting in earlier, causing a loud, harsh crash to reverberate through her house when the wood back collided with the floor. She felt herself jump at the sound before she started toward the chair to pick it up. Ichabod’s door opened, and she heard the hard _umph, umph, umph_ of his bare feet against her carpet. He braced himself in the doorway, hands on both sides of the frame. Just as she thought, he was in bare feet and his hair was untied. 

    “Miss Mills, I heard a crash. Are you alright?” he asked.

He had started calling her “Miss Mills” again. She didn’t mind it, not really. However, she still heard him say her first name in her head—Abbie—and how it sounded in his mouth and the ways in which his lips moved over it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I knocked over a chair. Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” She doubted he had been asleep. He was probably reading, something that she noticed he did quite often.

“No, I was reading some research.”

 _See_ , she thought. “I’m fine. Promise. I was just about to go take a shower.”

He looked unsure and lingered in the doorway. “Are you sure you are fine?”

        “Yeah, yeah, just scared myself a little bit. I’m fine, really,” she said, trying to assure him.

         “Very well.” He turned on his heel, about to head back to his room. He stopped and turned to her one more time. He didn’t speak, just stared.

         “What?” She gave a short laugh.

         “If you are not okay, tell me. You do not have to face whatever you are feeling alone. Know that, if nothing else.”

She did an intake of breath. Her mouth opened but he had turned to leave before she could say anything. _That was probably a good idea_ , she thought, shaking her head. What she was feeling was insane. Crane was still here. He didn’t leave her. Not yet. She slipped into the shower and placed a shower cap over her head. She really didn’t feel like messing with her hair before bed, and she knew if she washed it, she’d have to. She was falling between too awake to sleep, due to what happened, and too tired to do anything, due to her reaction of what happened. Would near death experiences always have this kind of hold on her? They were going up against the ultimate evil, darkness personified, and yet, this is the first time, since his death, that it really entered her mind that one(or both) of them could actually die doing this. Giving your life to save another was supposed to be honorable and deserving of the utmost respect and revere. However, being in the world alone, without Jenny, Crane, or heck, even Irving, unnerved her and made her skin crawl. She couldn’t handle alone. She could barely handle this. But alone? She’s done alone, and alone bathed and covered in loneliness left her almost without anything worth staying for.

Warm water hit her face and neck first before hitting the rest of her body. Steam started to fill up her shower. Her toes curled against the floor of the shower, forcing water flow between her toes. The steam grew thicker and started to billow around her feet. It around this time that she realized that the thick, opaque air-substance covering her feet and slowly covering her legs and thighs and was quickly rising that this was not from her shower. There was no water hot enough to produce that kind of steam, at least no water that she could actually stand it. She turned off the shower, and grabbed the towel handing from the shower rod. The smoke still building around her. She wrapped the towel around herself, and wished for her side arm. Bullets probably wouldn’t hurt anything that wasn’t living but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. She yanked back the shower curtain and was greeted by thicker, higher smoke. She stepped out, looked at the mirror.

The words _“To Miss Abigail Mills,”_ appeared on the mirror in a sharp writing style. _“I apologize for not being able to meet you in person but I do not have enough energy to present myself to you while you awake”._

 _Katrina,_ she thought. Abbie walked a little closer to the mirror, making sure to keep enough distance she could if she needed to. “Are you Katrina Crane?” she asked, hoping with all of her that this was, in fact, Katrina. _If it’s anyone else, I’m screwed._

  _“Yes”_ appeared on the mirror after a large amount of smoke covered the mirror, removing the last phrases that were it. The whole situation reminded her of _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Hello, Tom Riddle. My name is Harry Potter_. 

    “May I ask why you’re currently writing on my bathroom mirror?”

    _“Miss Mills, I apologize for not being to thank you in a closer or more personal meeting. But the hallways and passageways of between my world and mine are being guarded. This was the only safe option we had.”_

 _Thank me?_   “I understand. I appreciate you still taking the time to test this. Have you found out more information about The Horseman?” Since Ichabod was no longer connected to him, they had no idea where he was. Though, simultaneously, he had no idea where they were either. The entire bridge between them was destroyed.

     _“Even still, I must be quick,”_ were the words that were written on the foggy mirror next. _“I wanted to thank you for saving Ichabod. You do not understand how much that means to me.”_

“It was no biggie,” Abbie joked.

_“I do not understand your meaning.”_

Abbie looked away briefly, thinking. “Uh,” she paused, “I mean it was no problem or issue. I was happy to do it.” _Because I would’ve lost my mind if something happened to him,_ she thought.

 _“I am grateful for your assistance, Miss Mills.”_ The words erased. _“He needs you now. Much more than he realizes.”_

Abbie wasn’t entirely sure what to say so, she just nodded though she was not entirely sure Katrina could actually see her.

  _“You’ve grown on him.”_

       “He has, unfortunately, done the same thing to me,” Abbie joked.

       _“He tends to have that effect on people.”_ Even though she didn’t see her face, Abbie could see the smile behind Katrina’s words.

        _“Know this. For my sake. He is conflicted. You mean more to him than he is willing to admit currently. Give him his time.”_ The words disappeared from the mirror. _“I must go. I sense something.”_

        “Wait, Katrina, what do you mean? Katrina?” The fog was subsiding away and the mirror was no longer fogged over. She was gone. _Great._ “What did she mean?” she asked herself as she leaned against the bathroom door. There was a small knock on the other side of the door.

         “Is everything alright in there?” Ichabod asked. “Lieutenant, I heard you shouting at someone. Do you need assistance?”

         “No, I’m alright. I’m fine. You can go back to bed.” She wondered if she should tell him that Katrina just spoke to her. She wondered if that was even real, or if she had just imagined it all due to exhaustion and lack of sleep. However, given her track record lately, she would’ve bet her retirement money that it was real. Still, it didn’t stop the fact what she said disturbed her.

 

_“You mean more to him than he is willing to admit.”_


End file.
